


Three Times and a Charm

by phoenixwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 3 + 1 Things, Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Humor, Kink Exploration, Laughter During Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Married Couple, Yuuri Katsuki's questionable Google search skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: Three times trying a new kink doesn't go as planned, and one time it (mostly) does.





	

**1\. Cop/Suspect Roleplay**  
  
Yuuri waited at the door to their bedroom, adjusted his glasses, and tried to keep himself together.  
  
The whole thing had started as a joke when both of them had a bit too much wine to drink during dinner one night, and their conversation as the evening wore had become more and more ridiculous. Victor had started shifting between whispering a whole list of kinky, filthy ideas in Yuuri’s ear and exclaiming loudly how beautiful his husband was, neither of which was uncommon when Victor was drunk. Yuuri had surprised Victor the next day by suggesting they actually try out some of the things on Victor’s lengthy list of ideas.  
  
Yuuri took a deep breath and knocked on the bedroom door. _Don’t laugh_ , he reminded himself, _Do. Not. Laugh._  
  
Victor opened the door and stood against the frame, and oh. Victor was casual already, as if he really had just been lounging around his home, shirt off and wearing the worn pair of jeans that were juuuust a little too tight and hugged his hips and ass in high-definition. Yuuri bit his lip. Unfair. Victor knew those jeans did things to Yuuri.    
  
“How can I help you?” Victor asked, playing up his Russian accent.  
  
Yuuri licked his lips, delighted when he saw Victor’s eyes widen. “I’m Officer Katsuki.”  
  
Victor smiled, coy. “Am I under arrest, officer?”  
  
Yuuri took a step forward and held Victor’s chin. “That depends,” He murmured, reaching behind him for the handcuffs in his back pocket. They had ordered them online a few days prior, both of them giggling over the many varied prints and styles available. Victor had angled for a pink and yellow cheetah print monstrosity, but Yuuri had finally talked him into ordering the plain black ones. Yuuri couldn’t wait to see how they looked against Victor’s pale wrists. He dangled the handcuffs centimeters from Victor’s face. “Are you going to cooperate?”    
  
 “I think I’d rather see what it’s like to be handcuffed. . . by you,” Victor purred.  
  
Yuuri pushed Victor back into their bedroom until they both fell on the bed. Victor scrambled to sit up, holding his arms up against the railing.  
  
“What am I under arrest for, officer? Being so good looking?” Victor asked, punctuating it all with an exaggerated wink. Yuuri rolled his eyes as he handcuffed Victor’s wrist together and then looped the cuff to the top of their headboard. The black cuffs contrasted nicely with the pale flesh of Victor’s wrist, just as Yuuri had thought they would, and he couldn’t help but to lean down and kiss along the line of Victor’s arm.  
  
“That’s a new interrogation technique,” Victor remarked. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”  
  
Yuuri fought a smile, ducking his head and avoiding eye contact. He grabbed Victor’s chin again. “Hush.”  
  
He reached down with his other hand and palmed at Victor’s growing erection through the coarse denim of his jeans. Victor bucked into Yuuri’s hand, groaning when Yuuri pulled away.  
  
 “I’ll never tell you where it’s hidden,” Victor said, puffing his chest out. “So whatever you’re planning. . .”  
  
“Stop talking,” Yuuri repeated, bending down to nip at the column of Victor’s neck.  
  
“Ooh,” Victor said, his eyes gleaming when Yuuri pulled back. “Or what?”  
  
“Maybe I’ll sic the dogs on you,” Yuuri said as he trailed Victor’s collarbone with his thumb.  
  
“Oh, please no, Officer Katsuki, not the dogs,” Victor mocked.  
  
And Yuuri lost it. His carefully maintained straight face fell as he crumpled against Victor’s shoulder and full-out giggled.  
  
“Victor,” He admonished, “This is your fault.” Yuuri looked at his husband to see that Victor’s mouth was crinkled at the corners, a sure sign that Victor was trying hard not to join Yuuri in laughter. That wouldn’t do. If Yuuri broke character, at the very least he was going to get Victor to break as well. Yuuri snaked his arm between their bodies and tickled Victor’s ribs right where he knew Victor was most sensitive.  
  
“Ah—ha—YUURI—ha”  
  
Yuuri drew it out for a few minutes, chuckling at his helpless husband’s breathy laughter. He eventually took mercy on Victor and stopped, watching as Victor caught his breath.  
  
“This is silly.”  
  
“Because suggesting cop-suspect roleplay wasn’t silly at all,” Yuuri said, sarcasm dripping off each word. Victor jerked his hand against the cuffs—probably to ruffle Yuuri’s hair or pinch his cheek, as he was so fond of doing—  and Yuuri smirked.  
  
“I was drunk!”  
  
“I _am_ going to sic the dogs on you,” Yuuri said.  
  
Victor narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”  
  
Yuuri hopped off their bed and opened the door. “Makkachin!” He shouted. The poodle ran in from wherever she’d been lazing around in the apartment, jumping on the bed and pouncing on Victor.  
  
Victor laughed as Makkachin licked his face, but looked up to glare at Yuuri. “Betrayed,” He hissed. Yuuri shrugged and leaned over to pet Makkachin on the head.  
  
“Such a good attack dog,” He praised. Makkachin settled, sprawling over Victor’s lap and stretching her limbs.  
  
After a few minutes of watching Yuuri pet Makkachin, Victor spoke up. “You are going to unlock me eventually, right?”  
  
“Oh! Sorry!” Yuuri said, cheeks flushing as he realized he had forgotten about the handcuffs. He released Victor’s wrists and took them both in his own hands. They hadn’t been chained up very long, but Yuuri still tenderly massaged the skin there anyway.  
  
“That didn’t exactly go how I thought it would,” Victor teased after a few minutes. “I can’t believe you used our own dog to cockblock me.” Yuuri glanced down to see that Victor’s arousal, much like his own, had evaporated in the Makkachin cuddle attack. Instead of replying, Yuuri leaned over Makkachin to kiss Victor, flicking his tongue and using all the tricks he knew made his husband weak at the knees.  
  
“Playing dirty, I see,” Victor said when they broke apart.  
  
“If I play so dirty maybe that means next time we try you need to arrest me.”  
  
Victor considered. “Deal,” He said, and pulled Yuuri in for another kiss, both of them laughing when Makkachin barked at them.  


* * *

  
**2\. Dirty Talk**  
  
It shouldn’t have surprised Yuuri when one day, out of the blue, Victor said, “If you call me names sometimes when we’re having sex, that would be okay.” Victor was lounging on the couch and reading one of his god-forsaken romance novels that Yuuri planned to gather up and burn one day. Yuuri had nothing against romance novels in general, but Victor liked to get ideas from them, many of which were frankly physically impossible. Yuuri learned early on that Victor Nikiforov had little respect for the laws of physics.  
  
“What kind of names?” Yuuri asked, switching tabs on his laptop from the email he’d been writing to his parents and pulling up a cat video instead.  
  
“You know. . .” Victor trailed off. Yuuri heard the crinkle of pages turning. “Call me a slut, tell me I was made to take your cock, that kind of thing. Dirty talk.”  
  
“Oh. I don’t know if I’d be any good at that. . . But I’ll try it,” Yuuri agreed as he watched a black kitten pounce on his orange and white litter mate. Yuuri didn’t think he’d be into it for himself, but he was more than willing to try. It sounded tame compared to some of the things Victor had suggested over the years, many of which they had tried to either great success or at the very least, great stories. Not that the stories generally got shared with anyone except during times of drunk reminiscing with each other.  
  
“Really?” Victor’s eyes lit up, and Yuuri laughed. He reached over and curled one of the short hairs on the back of Victor’s neck around his finger before kissing the top of his head.  
  
“Yes, you dork. You realize you’re excited because I just agreed to call you a slut in bed?”  
  
Victor made a noise in the back of his throat. “It’ll be so hot.”  
  
And so, Yuuri took to the idea to The Great Sex Advice Column: Google.

  
_Google search, Katsuki, 3/17:_  
How to talk dirty  
What to do when your husband asks you to talk dirty to him  
Examples of dirty talk  
Good examples of dirty talk  
How to forget you ever saw something  
Cute pictures of baby animals  
Cute pictures of Victor Nikiforov  
Cute pictures of Victor Nikiforov holding baby animals  
  
_Google search, Katsuki, 3/18_  
Examples of dirty talk NOT porn  
Examples of dirty talk NOT porn NOT Cosmo  
WTF am I doing  
Dirty talk for beginners  
  
“Victor,” Yuuri let out, breathless, as Victor kissed down his stomach. Yuuri tangled his hand in Victor’s hair and pulled lightly, delighting in Victor’s answering moan. Victor mouthed at the head of Yuuri’s cock over the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs. Both their jeans and shirts had been lost long ago, and judging by the way things were going, they weren’t even going to make it to the bedroom tonight.  
  
Yuuri screwed his eyes shut and summoned his courage, reminding himself that Victor had asked for this. They had both always been conversational in bed, but dirty talk and name calling? That was new. “God, you’re such a slut for it, aren’t you?” Yuuri asked, his voice cracking slightly. Victor didn’t seem to notice or mind the tremor in Yuuri’s voice. Victor pulled back, eyes wide and hips stuttering forward, and yeah, he was _in_ to this.  
  
Victor hooked his thumbs in the band of Yuuri’s boxer-briefs and pulled them down to his knees before looking up at Yuuri with a lascivious grin. He hummed before sucking on the underside of Yuuri’s cock and teasing with his tongue. Spurred on by Victor’s earlier reaction, Yuuri decided to indulge his husband’s kink some more.  
  
“You’re such a — made to take— good slut dick,” Yuuri said, a jumble of all the phrases he had read online coming out at once. Victor, with Yuuri’s cock _still in his mouth_ , had the audacity to laugh.  
  
And laugh.  
  
And laugh.  
  
Victor choked and pulled away. Yuuri whined instinctively at the loss, but he didn’t really care because he was too busy hiding his face in his hands and suffering a slow, agonizing death of humiliation, which was decidedly not a turn-on for him. Victor rested his forehead against Yuuri’s knees and wheezed with laughter.  
  
“You are such a dick,” Yuuri muttered, his voice muffled by his hands. Yuuri felt Victor nod against his leg.  
  
“So you said. I’m such a good slut dick apparently,” Victor said between fits of laughter. Yuuri cracked his eyes open and peaked through his fingers to find Victor trembling and clutching his stomach. Not for the first time, Yuuri wondered how on earth his life got to this point.  
  
“Divorce,” Yuuri said flatly as he removed his hands from his face. “I’m going to divorce you and you’ll go bald.”  
  
“I’m—I’m—” Victor started to say something, but gave up as another bout of laughter took over. Victor’s face was flush and sweating, but not from the exertion Yuuri had originally planned for the night. Victor inhaled deeply, and Yuuri stared at the small sliver of sky that he could see through the blinds in their living room window.  
  
“Why is he like this?” Yuuri asked the sky, or God maybe. From the floor below him, Victor started hiccuping, and Yuuri rolled his eyes. He left his distressed husband on the floor by the couch and padded into the kitchen, pulling his underwear back up as he walked. Victor didn’t deserve it, but Yuuri fetched him a glass of water anyway.  
  
“I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” Yuuri threatened as Victor drank.  
  
“No—” _hiccup._ “—Thanks. I’m not into—” _hiccup, giggle._ “—Erotic asphyxiation”.  
  
Yuuri sighed and waited for Victor’s laughter and hiccups to subside. When Victor finally got a hold of himself, he sat up on the couch next to Yuuri and pulled the younger man close.  
  
“Thank you,” Victor murmured, serious now despite the mirth still present in his eyes.    
  
“For what?” Yuuri asked, confused.  
  
“For trying,” Victor replied, caressing Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri brought his hand up and placed it over Victor’s.  
  
“We can try again. As long as you don’t laugh at me next time.”  
  
Victor’s face twitched. “It was funny.”  
  
“Yeah,” Yuuri hesitantly agreed, fighting a smile. “It was.”  
  
Victor grinned and pulled Yuuri into his lap, making the younger man yelp.  
  
“I’ll just have to show you how it’s done,” Victor remarked, shifting them so that Yuuri was underneath him. “Gorgeous.” He kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “Beautiful.” Another kiss, this time to Yuuri’s nose. “Perfect, wonderful, amazing.”  
  
“That’s not dirty talk either,” Yuuri protested as Victor kept kissing his cheeks and neck.  
  
“Guess that means we both need a lot of practice,” Victor said as he laid Yuuri back down flat on the couch, the laughter in his eyes giving way to desire. Yuuri pulled Victor on top of him.  
  
“Talk later, kiss now.”  
  
_Google Search, Katsuki, 3/19_  
Trying a kink for the second time  
Things not to say during dirty talk  
Creative dirty talk  
Not that creative  
ASLKJKLE;AJKLFEJALKDJFL;KJFLKEAJF;LKEJA;LKFJA  
  


* * *

  
**3\. Videotaping**  
  
Victor looked over Yuuri’s shoulder and winked.  
  
“Victor,” Yuuri chided, “You’re the one who told me to try and forget the camera.”  
  
“But just think about it,” Victor said, “When you watch the video later, it’ll be like I’m winking right at you.”  
  
“Ugh,” Yuuri said, and buried his face in Victor’s shirt. “At this rate it’s going to be a two hour video of absolutely nothing.”  
  
“Maybe I can make you forget about it.” Victor started tracing Yuuri’s ribs under his shirt, his touch light and playful. Yuuri let himself forget about the camera as much as possible, content to lie on their bed and do little more than make out for several minutes. Victor bent down and started sucking a mark at the hollow of Yuuri’s collarbone, and that’s when Yuuri spotted it again—Victor’s phone on their nightstand, a stack of books serving as a makeshift tripod. He squirmed away from Victor.  
  
“What is it?” Victor asked.  
  
“The. . . The camera,” Yuuri murmured, turning on his side. It was silly, Yuuri knew. The whole thing had been his idea in the first place, but when he had offered the idea to Victor, he had been thinking about how erotic it would be to have a sex tape of the two of them, something that would play a bit into Yuuri’s possessive side that Victor often indulged in their more intimate moments. He hadn’t been thinking about how awkward it would be to actually film a sex tape. He hadn’t thought about logistics, about lighting and angles and body-related insecurities that tended to pop back up every now and then.  
  
In short, he hadn’t really thought at all.  
  
“I have an idea,” Victor said.  
  
_Please no,_ Yuuri thought, _not a Victor Nikiforov™ idea._  
  
Victor reached up and grabbed his phone, turning the front-facing camera on and angling it towards them. “Act natural!” Victor said.  
  
Yuuri stared at his husband. “Victor, never in my life have I acted natural in front of a camera.”  
  
Victor pouted. “That’s not true! What about all those selfies with Phichit? And that time you surprised Yurio at the rink? Everyone loved that one, it made Buzzfeed.”  
  
“Fun. Still not natural.”  
  
Victor rolled his eyes. “Act as natural as possible,” he amended, plastering a smile on and waving at the camera. He spoke in Russian, saying something Yuuri couldn’t quite catch except for his name. He had picked up on the language in the past few years, but it was always harder for him to understand when Victor was tired and his accent grew more pronounced.  
  
“What did you say?” Yuuri asked, bunching the excess fabric of Victor’s loose shirt in his hand.  
  
“That I was with the most beautiful man on earth.”  
  
Yuuri blushed and hid his face in Victor’s chest again. He mumbled something in rapid Japanese.  
  
“What did you say?” Victor repeated Yuuri’s earlier question. Yuuri turned his face back to the camera.  
  
“That _I_ was with the most beautiful man on earth,” he answered, his blush spreading to the tip of his ears. “What is the point of this?”  
  
Victor grinned and waved at the camera again before closing the app. “I was trying to make it feel more natural.” He paused. “I don’t think it worked though, did it?” Yuuri shook his head. “Ah, well, you’re still wrong. I’m with the most beautiful man on earth.”  
  
“If you’re going to post any part of that online, you better edit it first,” Yuuri warned. They were still both innocent-looking enough, except for the hickey blooming on the side of Yuuri’s neck, but Yuuri didn’t want their fans to get anymore ideas from their earlier discussion the camera had no doubt picked up.  
  
“Haven’t you read the comments lately?” Victor asked. It was a stupid question, because Victor knew Yuuri never read the comments, not even the positive ones. There was enough going on in his head without adding eighty-seven thousand more voices. “People have already speculated about a sex tape.”  
  
“Oh God,” Yuuri said, flushing and burying his face in his pillow.  
  
Victor scrolled through his phone, presumably checking his Instagram or reading more of these supposedly numerous comments speculating on their sex life. Where did they even come from? Twitter? Instagram? Back-channel secret figure skating message boards with web designs that looked like they were stuck in 2005?  
  
Not that Yuuri knew anything about those, of course. It wasn’t like he once had an account on the Victor Nikiforov Appreciation Forum with the username Vicchan1Fan, or that as a teenager he once wrote a two thousand word defense titled “Victor Nikiforov’s Hair at at Every Stage Appreciation Post” after someone had the gall to say that Victor didn’t look good with short hair. Preposterous.    
  
“We’re apparently very kinky.”  
  
“Please stop talking,” Yuuri asked his pillow, since his husband sure wasn’t listening.  
  
“They all agree we’re into bondage. They think I tie you up a lot.”  
  
Yuuri snorted. “You tie me up? We’ve tried that twice and it was you both times. Where are you getting this from, anyway?”  
  
“Tumblr. Also, you call me ‘sir’ in bed.”  
  
Yuuri laughed. “Not a chance.”  
  
“These people are creative. They have a lot more use for gold medals than I’ve ever thought about,” Victor remarked.  
  
“Hush,” Yuuri said, placing a finger over Victor’s lips. The romance novels were enough, Yuuri didn’t need his husband getting ideas from anywhere else. Victor threw his phone to the side of the bed and looked up with a smirk.  
  
“Yes sir,” Victor teased, their original plan to film themselves forgotten as Yuuri pinned Victor to the bed.

* * *

  
  
_+1 Lingerie_  
  
Yuuri fiddled with the waistband on his jeans, determined to act natural and not give anything anyway. It was hard, though, when he thought about the black lacy panties and stockings he was wearing underneath his clothes. He would have held off putting them on until later, but he wasn’t sure when he would get the chance since Victor had a whole evening of anniversary celebrations planned.  
  
They hadn’t made a reservation for dinner or anything this year, nothing that fancy, but Yuuri still wore his best pair of dark wash jeans and an emerald button-up shirt that Victor had bought him last year. Considering how over-the-top Victor could be, Yuuri knew walking to their favorite sandwich shop for dinner probably wasn’t Victor’s first choice, but Yuuri appreciated it. He just wanted to bask in their anniversary without having to worry about ties and jackets and being spotted by fans.  
  
They ate slowly, talking about everything and nothing in particular. Yuuri wasn’t in much of a mood to be in public, and Victor seemed to be feeling similarly. He didn’t even care if Victor did little more than stare and drink him in for the rest of the evening, he just wanted to be alone with his husband. They walked back hand-in-hand to their apartment in comfortable silence. Yuuri couldn’t help but to wonder what Victor’s reaction would be to seeing the outfit he had on beneath his jeans, and shivered pleasurably. Victor, mistaking it for a sign of the cold, pulled Yuuri closer.  
  
“I have a surprise for you,” Victor said once they got back to their apartment. “Let me get it ready?”  
  
“I’ll take Makkachin for her evening walk,” Yuuri suggested, grabbing the dog leash they kept on the coat rack.  
  
Yuuri’s ears and nose were chapped with cold when he got back inside, and he took a few minutes to warm up by their fireplace before venturing into their bedroom for his ‘surprise’.  He considered taking off his clothes in the living room, but decided he’d rather see Victor’s face upon discovery of the black panties.  
  
Yuuri’s eyes scanned over the bedroom, from the cliche rose petals to the soft candles, before looking up to find Victor sprawled over the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of thin, white stockings, attached to a lacy pair of white panties with a sheer baby blue panel. Oh. He recognized those, because they were the exact same as the pair Yuuri was wearing, just in a different color.  
  
“Do you not like it?” Victor asked, misinterpreting Yuuri’s silence. Yuuri shook his head frantically.  
  
“No, no, I love it. It’s just. . .”Yuuri’s mouth went dry. “I have a surprise for you too.”  
  
Victor sat up from where he was sprawled out over the bed, eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. “I want to see.”  
  
Yuuri pulled his shirt over his head, then took a deep breath, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them down to his ankles.  
  
“Oh,” Victor said. “Oh.” He chuckled. “Seems like I wasn’t the only one with the idea. Look at you.” He stood, taking Yuuri by the hand and pulling him so that he was standing between Victor’s spread legs. Victor’s fingers grazed the black lace, lingering on the peach floral overlay.  
  
“It was a suggestion, actually,” Yuuri said, his face flushing. “From Chris.”  
  
Victor shook his head. “That’s funny, because Phichit seem to think you would like these.”  
  
“Our friends are weirdly invested in our sex life,” Yuuri grumbled as Victor pulled him down onto the bed. He reached out and trailed a hand over Victor’s chest. It seemed an unspoken agreement they were going slow tonight. It was their anniversary, after all, and regardless of reality, it felt as if they had all the time in the world. Yuuri removed his glasses and put them on the night stand, wanting to get them out of the way before they ended up getting knocked off in the heat of the moment. It made his vision blurry,  but that was okay. There was something about just getting lost to the sensations that appealed to him.  
  
“We’ll thank them later,” Victor said. They kissed, sloppily, as they both roamed their hands over each other’s bodies. Victor toyed with the opening of the stockings that cut into Yuuri’s thighs. Yuuri sighed happily into Victor’s mouth as Victor stroked him lightly through the fabric, the silk becoming wet from pre-come beneath Victor’s hand. Victor moved to pull them down, but Yuuri stopped him.  
  
“Leave them on. Yours too,” Yuuri said. The silk felt good against his heated skin, and even better when Victor slotted his legs between Yuuri’s and they rolled against each other. It probably wasn’t the way either of them had expected the evening to go, but Yuuri was good with this. The slippery drag of the silk over both their cocks, combined with the pressure of rutting against each other, was a new kind of pleasure, and Yuuri could keep his hand on the back of Victor’s neck and kiss him until they were both out of breath.  
  
“Yuuri,” Victor murmured against his cheek. “Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.”  
  
Yuuri’s spine curved, seeking more friction, and moaned into Victor’s mouth. “Happy anniversary, Victor.”  
  
Yuuri arched his back, sighing at the sensation of his hips meeting Victor’s own. It had been a long time since they had done this, just slowly using their bodies to drive each other over the edge with nothing more than gravity and delightful pressure. Victor’s hand skimmed Yuuri’s waist, once again dancing over the black lacy number, and Yuuri bucked into it. Yuuri used his free hand to squeeze the soft flesh at the back of Victor’s thighs, immensely satisfied with the resulting groan.  
  
“Yuuri,” Victor said once again, like he needed to fill the space between them with Yuuri’s name as much as possible. Yuuri came first, not as much of a galaxies-exploding-eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-head orgasm as much as a slow unwinding that stretched on and on. He felt a bit dizzy and tipsy from nothing but the intoxicating feeling of Victor being so near. Above him, Victor shuddered through his own orgasm, making a mess of them both.  
  
Yuuri stared at the ceiling, aware of the soft rose petals underneath him, and tried to catch his breath.  
  
“Mm,” Victor said, clearly pleased. He snapped the waistband of the panties against Yuuri’s skin. “These are beautiful.”  
  
Yuuri wrinkled his nose, increasingly aware of the dampness between his thighs. “ _These_ are disgusting. You too. We should clean up.”  
  
Victor grumbled, but followed Yuuri to the bathroom. They tossed both pairs of lingerie into the laundry basket. “Think we ruined them?” Victor asked. “It would be such a shame.”  
  
Yuuri turned on the shower and stepped underneath the spray. “We can always buy more.”  
  
“Yeah,” Victor agreed, casting the laundry basket another appreciative look. “I’m sending Phichit a fruit basket.”  
  
Yuuri laughed as he lathered up his hands with shampoo and made Victor duck his head underneath the stream. He worked his fingers through Victor’s silver locks. “And Chris?”  
  
Victor considered. “Chris would probably appreciate nudes. But he’ll settle for a fruit basket too.”  
  
“And me?” Yuuri asked. “What do I get?”  
  
Victor ducked his head under the water again for a rinse. He straightened back up and tapped his chin, pretending to contemplate. “Fifty more years of marriage? Is that enough gratitude?”  
  
“Only if you’ll accept the same.”  
  
“I insist on it,” Victor said, dragging Yuuri underneath the water for another kiss.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've read fics where either Yuuri or Victor surprise each other with lingerie, so NATURALLY my mind went to "what if they BOTH try to surprise each other?" And thus, this was born. And also because I really wanted to read a fic where characters tried some sort of sexual roleplay but couldn't help but to break character and laugh at themselves, and it just spiraled from there with Yuuri's questionable Google searches. 
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me about YOI or anything else over on [Tumblr](https://burningphoenixwings.tumblr.com)!


End file.
